


I Don't Think They Know

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Failboats In Love, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:43:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It just got started. They were fighting a minute ago.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Think They Know

This is a fill for two prompts on the kinkmeme, both of which basically amount to, “Newt and Hermann have no idea how bad they are at sex.” Read the full prompts [here](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/1613.html?thread=2327373#t2327373) and [here](http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/2747.html?thread=3908539#t3908539).

 *****

 

Joel had a coffee in each hand, and a bag with two danishes in it between his teeth. Elbowing through the door, he nearly dropped it all in surprise when César hissed at him, “Get in here! _Shh!_ Close the door!” 

He shouldered the door shut, had a look around, and saw nothing different in the room and nothing obviously wrong on the monitors. He handed one coffee to César, and opened his teeth to let the bag drop into his free hand. “Fucking freak me out, why don’t you. What’s going on?” 

César pointed at Monitor Six, the K-science lab. Inspecting it more closely, Joel could now clearly see the two scientists…in a frantic embrace. “Oh shit, how much did I miss?” 

“It just got started. They were fighting a minute ago.” 

The security men sipped their coffee and brought chunks of danish to their mouths without taking their eyes off the screen. “Which one is which again?” Joel asked. 

“Uh…I think the one with the tattoos is Gottler, and the one with the stupid hair is Geiszlieb…?” 

On the screen, the one scientist backed the other up against a desk, which almost knocked over a nearby stack of papers. They both lunged simultaneously to rescue it, and ended up with one of them getting smacked in the face and the other taking an elbow to the gut. 

“ _Oh!_ ” Joel and César gasped and flopped back in their chairs like they’d just seen a goal at a football match. 

While the scientists righted themselves and got back to the business of making out, César asked, “Did you know these two were fooling around?” 

“I don’t think _they_ know that they’re fooling around. Look at ‘em.” 

The one with the stupid hair had the tattooed one’s trousers open, and was giving him a handjob that, if one was feeling particularly kind, one would describe as “erratic.” 

“Oh, my God.” César was struggling for breath, he was laughing so hard at the sight. “Does he think he’s in an arcade playing _Galaga?”_

The scientists attempted to continue kissing while the handjob went on, though now more than ever it resembled a clash between two dogs that had both been fed peanut butter. The whole situation mercifully ended in a shuddering orgasm, which Joel and César found miraculous. “Would you be able to come if someone was handling your dick like that?” César asked. There was no response, because their rapt attention was immediately renewed when the tattooed one got on his knees. 

“It’s like an Aronofsky film,” Joel muttered. “It’s too disturbing to watch, but I can’t shut it off because I have to find out how much more disturbing it can get.” 

The blowjob had barely started when the one with the stupid hair seized up, his face twisted in pain. He indicated his leg, then a swivel chair. The other one stood up and helped him to the chair. This time when Joel and César laughed, it was tinged with awkwardness – embarrassment at the way they felt watching this strikingly tender moment (though it was still funny, as both men on the screen had their dicks out as it happened). 

The blowjob resumed, much to Joel and César’s delight and horror. “Oh, Jesus,” Joel said, “if I’m able to see his teeth on the screen, he’s _got_ to be able to feel them on his dick. That poor bastard.” 

César yelled at the screen, “Don’t – don’t try to take it all, little guy! It’s fine! Just take what you can, it’s better than gagging on it. _That’s_ not attractive.” 

“Huh, I guess he finds it attractive enough,” Joel said as the one with the stupid hair dropped his jaw in a way that made it clear he was coming. 

César slumped in his chair, blinking several times before muttering, “…What the fuck did we just watch.” 

“I don’t know, man.” Joel shook his head. “I don’t know.”

 

*****

Newt straightened up and pulled Hermann toward him for a kiss. “That was awesome,” he said. 

“Yes, that was…quite agreeable,” Hermann replied. 

“Come on, man. _Agreeable_?” 

Hermann cleared his throat. “Alright, yes, amazing.” 

They kissed a little more, until suddenly Hermann pulled away. “Oh, God. Oh, _damn_ it,” he cried, and fumbled hurriedly with his trousers, struggling to put his soft, damp cock away. “I forgot there’s a security camera in here!” 

“So?” 

_“So!”_

“So first of all, no one was actually watching –no one bothers to watch security footage, because it’s boring. But even if they did? So they watched us having sex, and we probably made them super jealous, ‘cause we’re amazing.” 

Hermann hoped that the former assertion was true, rather than the latter. 

“Come on, stop worrying, worry-face,” Newt scolded. “Or else…” 

“Or else what?” 

“Or else the tickle monster’s gonna come and _make_ you stop worrying.” 

“No, Newton, please.” Hermann squirmed defensively.  “I’m not in the mood for the tickle monster—!” 

Newt dove towards Hermann’s middle, hands outstretched and headed for Hermann’s sides. When Hermann moved to stop him, he accidentally head-butted Newt and knocked his glasses off. Newt just laughed and rubbed his supraorbital ridge. “You know, dude,” he said, “most people just leave hickeys.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta, Skylanth!


End file.
